


Spotlight

by Theblueandblack



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Jughead Jones Loves Betty Cooper, Mild Smut, Protective Jughead Jones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-05-31 04:37:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15111956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theblueandblack/pseuds/Theblueandblack
Summary: Since childhood, Betty Cooper has always looked out for Jughead Jones. As the world around them starts to implode, Jughead wants to return the favor.Based around season 1. Canon-ish.





	1. Chapter 1

_ ~~~ _

_ I want to live where soul meets body _

_ And let the sun wrap its arms around me _

 

“You’ll never catch me, Betty!”

 

An 11 year-old boy with a shock of red hair flew down a suburban street on his bike. He had declared a race with his best friend and neighbor, and he was determined to win.

 

“We’ll see about that, Arch,” said a girl the same age with blonde pigtails. She released the brake of her shocking pink bike with her foot, then began pedaling at an alarming pace. Soon, she was gaining on him.

 

“Come on, Betty! You almost have him!” A pale, thin boy wearing a crown-shaped beanie sat on the curb, watching his friends act like competitive fools. Unphased, he gulped down the rest of his juicebox.

 

Smirking at Jughead’s vote of confidence, Betty pedaled with all her might. Beads of sweat gathered at her forehead as she barreled towards the finish line: a maple tree in old Mrs. Smith’s front yard. Try as Archie might, he simply could not catch up. She reached the tree before him, considerably bruising her friend’s ego. 

 

“Aw, man,” he sighed. 

 

“Good race, Arch. I’m sure you’ll get me next time,” said Betty reassuringly. Even when she won, she never bragged. It simply wasn’t in her nature. Plus, the last thing she wanted was for Archie to feel bad. 

 

“You’ve gotten fast, Betts. You’ll have to give me some pointers!” Archie grinned sheepishly. Betty blushed at the compliment, turning her head so he wouldn’t notice. The pair walked their bikes back to where their friend was sitting. 

 

In a sleepy town called Riverdale, Archie Andrews and Betty Cooper were neighbors since diapers. They had been inseparable since kindergarten. Archie excelled at sports, while Betty excelled in academics. It was at school that the two met Jughead Jones, who lived on the seedy south side of town and excelled at eating everything in sight. The dynamic trio spent much of their free time together, and this sunny summer afternoon was no exception. 

 

“She really got you, man,” Jughead said through a mouthful of chips. He had no real interest in racing bikes, or in any sport for that matter. He just enjoyed his friends’ company. 

 

“I only won by a little,” Betty said modestly, glancing to check Archie’s reaction. His attention had shifted to tossing his football as high as he could into the air. A hint of a frown appeared on Betty’s face, disappearing as quickly as it came. Jughead regarded this interaction without a hint of surprise: Betty had had a crush on Archie for as long as he could remember. Archie was oblivious to this fact, which Jughead was perfectly fine with. He liked their little group as it was. Truthfully, although he had never had a crush before, Betty would have been his first choice. Still, his 11 year-old self was mostly concerned with eating snacks and reading comic books. At that point, romance was nowhere near his radar. 

 

“Don’t you wish it could be summer forever?” Betty sighed as she stretched out on Archie’s lawn, soaking up the sun’s rays.

 

“Yeah,” the two boys replied in unison, laying beside her. The three watched the cumulus clouds drift through the bright blue sky, trying to decide what each resembled most. An idyllic childhood moment, blissfully ignorant to the complications life would bring. 

 

~ ~ ~

 

_ And if I’m taking this the wrong way _

_ I hope you know that you can tell me whatever you’re thinking _

_ It’s when you put me in the spotlight… _

 

“Destiny has a funny way about her,” Jughead typed. “She picks sides.” He was sitting in a booth at Poppe’s Chock’lit Shoppe, Riverdale’s beloved diner. He spent most nights here, sipping black coffee and pouring out his thoughts on his laptop. At the moment, his train of thought had one focus: the murder of Jason Blossom. He was the heir to the Blossom Maple Syrup empire, a football player and fellow sophomore at Riverdale High, and the twin brother of Cheryl Blossom, Riverdale’s resident it-girl. As the story goes, Jason and Cheryl were having a casual morning boat ride on Sweetwater River (as siblings do) when, according to her, he fell in and drowned while reaching for her glove in the water. However, Jason’s body recently washed up ashore of the river with a gunshot wound to the head. This revelation shook Riverdale to its core. As an aspiring novelist, Jughead felt it his civic duty to document the events of the summer. And so, that’s exactly what he was doing.

 

Jughead was finishing up his third cup of coffee when the bell on the door chimed. He looked up from his post as a reflex, and to his surprise, Archie Andrews was standing there. His former best friend. He was wearing a suit that he probably borrowed from his dad. “The dance,” Jughead thought, having forgotten it was tonight. It wasn’t his scene anyways. But Archie didn’t notice Jughead. He walked up to Pop Tate and asked urgently, “Has Betty come in tonight?” When Pop told him no, Archie swiveled around with a defeated look on his face. It was then that he finally saw Jughead. 

 

“Can I sit here?” Archie asked. 

 

“If you want,” Jughead replied in a disinterested tone. It had been a tense few months since the Summer When Archie Disappeared. Despite his best efforts, Jughead had heard neither hide nor hair from his childhood best friend. He was still the resident ‘mysterious loner’ of Riverdale High, but Archie’s neglect had bruised him. It felt familiar. 

 

Without so much as a greeting, Archie began to unravel, explaining the night’s events and their implications. Betty had confessed her feelings for him, and he didn’t return the favor. He couldn’t. “I’m kind of terrified that I may have lost my best friend tonight,” he stated. The look on his face said it all: he was hurting, but not lovesick. Jughead’s thoughts shifted to Betty. Though he had lost touch with her, there had been no falling out between them. She was endlessly busy doing homework, cheering with the River Vixens, and dealing with her toxic home life. He knew how she felt about Archie- which was obvious to everyone except for Archie, apparently. He felt a familiar pang in his stomach at how she must be feeling. The sting of rejection.

 

Without skipping a beat, Jughead offered his token of advice. “Talk to her, man. It’ll go a long way.” He paused. “Would’ve gone a long way with me.”

 

Archie nodded sadly, thanked Jughead for his help, and went out in search of Betty.

 

Jughead sighed and rubbed his eyes. He looked at the clock hanging above the pink neon lights on the wall: 12:45 AM. A half an hour had passed with nothing to show for it. His focus had been interrupted, and he knew he wouldn’t pen another decent sentence tonight. Time to leave. He bid Pops farewell and strolled leisurely down the winding dirt road, in no rush to get to his destination. Archie’s words had taken Jughead by surprise. He knew that Archie had had no inkling of Betty’s feelings for him. But now that those pent-up emotions had finally been expressed, the truth came out with them. Archie didn’t love her back. Not in that way. Jughead’s question, though, was why?

 

When Jughead thought of Betty, a cascade of memories flooded his mind. He recalled his first interaction with her in Ms. Morris’ fourth grade class. She had been assigned the seat next to his. She was the epitome of organization, with three razor-sharp pencils placed meticulously next to her notebook at all times. She wore her blonde hair in a ponytail so tight that Jughead used to wonder if it hurt her skull. Jughead tended not to interact with the opposite sex, aside from his beloved little sister Jellybean. But Betty had forged their friendship from the very start. 

 

“Hi! You must be new here,” fourth grade Betty had said, smiling widely. Genuinely, it seemed. “Welcome to Riverdale Elementary School! What’s your name?”

 

Jughead, still not entirely convinced girls didn’t have cooties, tried his best to act disinterested. “The name’s Jughead. Jughead Jones.”

 

Betty looked perplexed. “Oh. That’s an interesting name.”

 

Jughead smirked. “You should hear the real thing.”

 

“Well, if you need anything, let me know. I’m the class ambassador, so it’s my job to help the newcomers,” Betty said cheerily, though she seemed unsure what to make of this strange boy wearing a crown-shaped beanie.

 

“Thanks,” Jughead replied. His eyes glanced around the room absentmindedly, when suddenly something caught his attention. There was a goldmine under this Betty Cooper’s desk: Not one, but TWO bags of Fritos. “Wait, I think I do need something- are those your Fritos? I’m STARVING.”

 

Betty’s face was a mix between horror and amusement. She didn’t respond verbally, instead picking the bag up off the floor and handing it to him. “Here,” she said. “I didn’t know there was someone out there who loves these as much as me. My mom won’t let me eat junk food, so I buy them here at the vending machine.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. 

 

Jughead grabbed the bag with an urgency that made it seem like he wasn’t fed at home (It wasn’t true. He just loved food). He went to tear into the bag, but stopped himself and instead looked up at Betty curiously. “Thanks a lot,” he said shyly. If these Fritos were infected with cooties, he suddenly didn’t care. 

 

Betty laughed. “You’re a strange one, Jughead Jones. Oh, and you’re welcome.”

 

As he walked, memories of Betty continued to play out in his mind. He remembered making up stories in her backyard, escaping the darker reality of both of their home lives. He remembered trekking down to Sweetwater River and putting their toes in the water on a hot summer day, eating popsicles and discussing life’s mysteries. He remembered age 13, the first time she read something he had written, and the way her eyes twinkled as she said, “Jug, this is REALLY good. You have talent!” He remembered the pride he had felt in that moment, and the butterflies that found their way into his stomach. Betty was pure, yet tenacious. She stood up for what she believed in and always defended her friends. He remembered the time when Reggie Mantle had shoved him at recess, and how Betty had shoved him right back. Jughead smiled and shook his head. She was a force of nature. 

 

If Jughead was being honest with himself, he had always had a bit of a crush on Betty. But they were best friends, and that was more than enough for him. He knew that Betty loved Archie, and he respected that. He was comfortable on his own, and he figured that when Archie finally realized Betty’s feelings for him, they would start dating. But reality had other plans, which made Jughead seriously question Archie’s sanity. Not only was Betty smart, driven, and funny, she was also seriously beautiful. With each year that passed since they met, she seemed to get prettier. Jughead thought Archie was an idiot, but maybe that was him feeling protective of his former best friend. In an alternate universe where it wouldn’t be weird, he would have gone to Betty’s to see if she was alright. Instead, he kept walking. 

 

The frogs sang in the surrounding grass as Jughead’s black Converse hit the dirt road. He was tired. Was he immune to coffee at this point? Or was it the thought of another night sleeping on a metal cot that exhausted him? His mind flashed back to his cozy bed in his childhood home, when his parents were in between fights and his life was somewhat peaceful. “Normal”. He longed for those days, but he knew it didn’t do him any good. It wouldn’t make his mom and Jellybean move back from Toledo, and it certainly wouldn’t make his father sober. The winding road started to slant upwards against a hill. The sign for the Twilight Drive-Ins, his makeshift home, came into view. 

 

Jughead approached the metal gate that served to secure the grounds from trespassers (it didn’t do a great job). To his surprise, it was ajar. “Didn’t I shut that on the way out?” he thought out loud. He chalked it up to a false memory and pushed against the chain links with his palm. As he entered, he looked around. The moon was almost full that night, and the usually dark lot was cast in its glow. Light surrounded the concession box and projector booth, and his heart swelled. It wasn’t his first choice for a home, but the Twilight held a special place in Jughead’s heart. It had seen his taste in films develop from action-packed killfests to thought-provoking dramas with darkness and romance (and obviously still action-packed killfests). He made his way past the concession booth. He liked reflecting on those times, and he clung to the happy thoughts before they could be replaced by sad ones. But then he saw her. 

 

The moon’s glow fell over a figure 20 feet from where Jughead was standing. The mysterious being had blonde hair, a pink dress, and, from the sounds of it, was crying. 

 

Cautiously, Jughead stepped forward. He swallowed. “Betty?” he asked quietly.

 

Startled, she turned around. The skirt of her flowy pink dress billowed in the breeze, the top half covered by a white cardigan. Her signature ponytail had been replaced by soft waves that framed her face. Her cheeks were red and her green eyes were shining, brimming with tears. “Jug? What are you doing here?”

 

Jughead heard her, but there was a delay in his brain receiving the message. He was staring at her. 

 

Betty bit her lip and looked down self-consciously. “I know, not my best look. But no need to stare.”

 

He snapped back to reality. “Sorry..I, uh- it’s not that at all. I’m just surprised to see you here. And especially like this.” 

 

She looked up. “You didn’t answer my question. What are you doing here so late?”

 

Frantically, he racked his brain for a convincing response, when suddenly- “I haven’t been..sleeping well. I come here for inspiration. Writing inspiration.”

 

Betty looked thoughtful. “Oh. That makes sense.” She clasped her hands together tightly.  “I’m sorry that I interrupted- that you stumbled upon my pity party.”

 

A smirk, albeit gentle, appeared on Jughead’s face. She was putting his feelings before hers, like always. “Well, I didn’t go to the dance, but I’m willing to bet that this pity party is way more fun.”

 

She half smiled, but the mention of the dance made her expression darken. Jughead realized what he had done, because he knew why she was here. He felt like a world-class idiot. “Sorry. My jokes still suck.”

 

Betty laughed at that, then sighed. “Have you talked to Archie tonight, by chance?”

 

Jughead paused for a few seconds, then replied, “Yeah. He stopped by Pop’s.” He couldn’t bring himself to lie to her.

 

“Oh,” she said, wiping at her face. “So you must know, then.”

 

He nodded somberly. “I understand that I’m probably the last person you want to talk to about this right now... I’m no Kevin. But if you need to, I’m all ears.”

 

Betty nodded slowly, then turned on her heel to face the projector booth (and Jughead’s room). “I should’ve known that this would happen. I fooled myself into thinking that he would feel the same way.” She paused, then turned back to face him, her expression turning angry. “Do you know what he said to me?” 

 

Jughead stayed silent, looking at her intently.

 

She shook her head in disbelief. “He said, ‘You are so perfect. I’ve never been good enough for you. I’ll never be good enough for you.’ What am I supposed to do with that?!” She was clenching her fists, her shaking fingers hidden in her palms. “What does ‘perfect’ even mean anyway? How do you assign that label to someone so far from its definition?” Tears rolled down her cheeks again, this time full force. She kneeled on the ground, her dress wrinkling into the dirt. Jughead sat next to her, drawing circles in the earth with his index finger. He had heard Archie’s side, and he knew that people couldn’t be faulted for how they felt. But in that moment, sitting next to Betty Cooper as she cried, he thought Archie might be the dumbest person he’d ever met.

 

Jughead was working up the courage to speak when Betty’s sniffles were interrupted by her phone ringing.

 

_ Sugar, sugar _

_ Oh, honey, honey _

_ You are my candy, girl _

_ And you’ve got me wanting you _

 

“Crap,” Betty muttered, then answered the call. “Hi Mom,” she said in her best I-wasn’t-just-crying voice.

 

Alice Cooper’s voice screeched through the phone as she demanded to know where Betty was, why she was rebelling, had she gone to Pop’s again for milkshakes, and countless other accusatory questions. Betty looked at Jughead apologetically. “I’m sorry, Mom, I just went on a walk to clear my head. I’ll be home soon.” Her mom was still ranting, and with the next ‘Elizabeth Cooper’ she yelled, Betty hung up.

 

Jughead blinked. “She hasn’t changed much, huh?”

 

Betty rolled her eyes. “She has. She’s gotten worse.” She stood up. “I better head home.”

 

Jughead followed suit, then said “You may not survive the night if you don’t,” with a mischievous tone in his voice. 

 

Betty laughed, her red-rimmed eyes sparkling. “I think you’re right.”

 

They both stood silently for a minute. Even though they had been out of touch for a while, their interaction felt natural. Jughead felt like he was 11 years old again, hanging out with his best friend. Only the circumstances were more heartbreaking, and this time, he was feeling something more. Something that took him by surprise.

 

Breaking the silence, Betty looked seriously at Jughead. “Thank you for being there for me tonight. For listening. You didn’t have to.”

 

Jughead’s features softened. “No need to thank me. We go way back, remember?”

 

Betty grinned. “We sure do. Bye, Jug.”

 

She started walking in the direction of the gate, bracing herself for what awaited her at home, when his voice made her stop in her tracks.

 

“Betts?” 

 

She turned back around, startled by his old nickname for her. “What is it?”

 

Jughead looked at her, his eyes soft.

 

“I wanted you to know that you’re not perfect. You’re so much more than that.”

 

Betty blinked in shock.

 

He took his cue to turn around then, walking towards the movie screen in the background. The only place the moonlight hadn’t touched. “I’ll see you around.”

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics used: 
> 
> Spotlight- Lil Peep x Marshmello  
> Soul Meets Body- Death Cab for Cutie
> 
> My first fan fiction. Comments are greatly appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: sexual harassment/assault

_When the moon hits your skin_

_I can see you and him_

_Not you and me_

 

Betty quickened her pace towards the metal gate, leaving the drive-ins and Jughead behind. She pushed through and ran the quarter mile down to her car, which was parked by the side of the road. Her mother was seething, and with every moment that ticked by she was only bound to get angrier. She climbed into her old sedan, buckled her seatbelt, and flipped down the visor to look in the mirror. Her eyes looked significantly less puffy, and it was less obvious that she had been crying. She turned the key in the ignition and the engine rumbled to life. Betty had spent more hours under her car’s hood than she could count, changing her oil and switching out parts. She smiled briefly at the thought.

 

As she drove down the winding road, she replayed the night's events in her mind. About the boy she loved being in a closet with Veronica Lodge at Cheryl's party. About being rejected by him. And about Jughead, and what he had said to her. It quickly became overwhelming, and she turned on her stereo as a distraction. The Smiths, a band Archie had gotten her into, blared through the speakers:

 

_So, for once in my life_

_Let me get what I want_

_Lord knows it would be the first time_

_Lord knows it would be the first time_

 

Betty sighed. This sucked.

 

~~~

 

It was 2 AM when Betty finally pulled into the driveway. Her mother was visible in the window, looking crazed as she paced back and forth. She got out of the car and walked to the front door, not at all prepared for what waited on the other side. 

 

Even in the middle of the night, Alice Cooper looked ready for a press conference. She was wearing a gray blazer over a lacy white shirt, black slacks, and heeled black boots. She was enraged. "ELIZABETH COOPER! Where have you been?! I have been worried SICK!" she shrieked. "Have you been out getting drunk with the town riff raff after the dance? For SOME reason, I trusted Archie Andrews to return my daughter home at a decent hour. I shouldn't be surprised!”

 

Betty exhaled sharply. "Mom, I'm sorry. I know I missed curfew and I should've called." 

 

“You're damn right you should have. At the VERY LEAST. You do understand that your father and I are working on one of the most compelling journalistic pieces of our careers? I should be at the Register with your father, not waiting around to see if you show up." Alice was shaking, her fists balled up. She was referring, of course, to Jason Blossom's murder. 

 

“Well, I'm here now. And I'm sorry," Betty replied shakily. "I wasn't out drinking. I left to clear my mind, because- Archie and I got into a fight, and right now I don't know where we stand.”

 

If it wasn’t there before, Alice’s eyes glowed with rage at this revelation. "If he hurt you, I swear to God I will march over there right now to give him AND Fred a piece of my mind.”

 

"Mom, please. He didn't- look, I really don't want to talk about it. Just know that I'm okay."

 

"Of course you don't. Betty, your behavior has been more than alarming lately. It reminds me of Polly before-"

 

Betty cut her off. "Don't even go there, Mom. If you're going to punish me, then do it. But please, just don't go there."

 

Alice looked taken aback. "Alright. We'll figure out what to do with you in the morning. I have to head back to the Register. There's much to be done- but this conversation isn't over." She turned on the heel of her boot and stalked out, slamming the front door so hard it shook a nearby lamp. 

 

Betty stood there in the hall for a few minutes, not even realizing she was digging her nails into her palms again. When she came to, she felt numb. In spite of everything, she was glad to have the house to herself. She went upstairs, took off her dress, and got in the shower. The water beating down on her back relaxed her, and she felt somewhat refreshed as she dried off. Still, she was exhausted. She put on a clean shirt and a pair of sleep shorts, and just as she was about to climb into bed, she turned to look out the window. The light in Archie's room was off, and she couldn't decide if he was sleeping or if he had gone out again. She figured the latter. 

 

As she lay in bed, her eyelids felt heavy, but she couldn't sleep. She started to replay everything in her mind again, when suddenly Jughead's words were at the forefront.

 

_“You're not perfect. You're so much more than that."_

 

Jughead Jones. Her childhood friend. Her once kindred spirit. She had wondered about him these past few years, but had been too busy to check in. At least, that’s what she told herself. She always smiled when she saw him at school, usually brooding by himself over a book or his laptop. But it was never more than a passing acknowledgement. She felt guilty for not keeping in contact- and more than that, she wished she had. After all this time, he had been there to comfort her. Whether or not his words were just to make her feel better, Betty was grateful. As she thought about their interaction, a sense of peace washed over her. Before she knew it, her eyes were closing and she was drifting into a deep sleep. 

~~~

Monday morning hit Betty like a semi-truck. She got up at 5 AM as usual, though it took all her willpower not to throw her alarm clock out the window. She hid her dark circles with concealer, brushed her hair into a sleek ponytail, and stepped out to face the world. She had walked with Archie almost every morning since they were kids, but today she left an hour early. “This is my life now,” she thought solemnly. Better get used to it.

 

Once at school, she was pleased to discover that her classes were lecture-heavy and new assignments were being handed out. If there was anything Betty was good at, it was burying her problems in schoolwork. In English class, Mr. Johns’ raspy voice filled the room as he read Langston Hughes:

 

_What happens to a dream deferred?_

_Does it dry up_

_like a raisin in the sun?_

_Or fester like a sore-_

_And then run?_

_Does it stink like rotten meat?_

_Or crust and sugar over-_

_Like a syrupy sweet?_

_Maybe it just sags,_

_like a heavy load_

_Or does it explode?_

 

The bell rang, but Betty barely noticed. From the classic poem a newfound inspiration was born.

 

She walked quickly until she reached the old office of the now defunct school newspaper, the Blue and Gold. As much as she hated to admit it, she was intrigued by the journalistic work her parents did at the Register. In the wake of Jason Blossom’s murder, there was something Riverdale High needed more than ever: a voice. And that voice couldn’t just be Betty. She needed someone with solid writing chops, investigative skills, and a desire to know the truth.

 

“Jughead,” she said to no one in particular. She had to find him.

~~~

When lunchtime came, Betty went outside. The last thing she wanted was to risk seeing Archie in the cafeteria, and she had once seen Jughead eating under a tree by the football fields. She walked along the grass until she spotted his beanie from afar.

He was sitting under an old oak tree with headphones in, typing on his laptop. He was wearing a well-worn Sherpa-lined denim jacket, dark pants, and tattered black converse. His dark hair peaked out from his gray crown-shaped beanie. Betty cleared her throat, then said, “Hey, Jug.”

 

He looked up, and Betty noticed the dark circles under his cloudy blue eyes. She remembered that he had been staying up late working on his novel.

 

“Betty Cooper,” he said as a wry smile crossed his face. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

 

She tried her best to act casual. “Oh, I was just on a little walk. I was going over my plan of attack for this week’s pile of homework when I spotted you.”

 

“Yeah, this is my usual post. Cafeteria’s not really my thing these days.” He stretched out his arms and put his hands behind his head, leaning comfortably against the tree. Betty glanced at his belongings and didn’t see any food.

 

“No lunch today?” she said, a hint of concern in her tone. “I have a PB & J in my bag.”

 

He looked intrigued. “Nope. Forgot to pack it. Are you sure you don’t want it? I don’t want to take your lunch.”

 

“It’s all yours. The Jughead I remember doesn’t skip meals,” she said with a smirk. “Besides, I’m not too hungry.” She pulled off her backpack to retrieve the sandwich, then took a seat on the grass next to him.

 

“Thanks, Cooper!” he said with gratitude as he grabbed the sandwich out of her hands. He scarfed half of it down in 10 seconds flat.

 

“Not a problem,” she smiled, then looked at him seriously. “Actually, I did have another reason for coming out here. I have a proposition for you.”

 

He looked up from his sandwich and blinked at her. “Oh?”

 

“I want to revive the Blue and Gold, and I want you to write for it.”

 

Jughead looked skeptical. “Print journalism is dead, Betty. Besides, I don’t think that the Blue and Gold’s the right place for my voice.”

 

“The Blue and Gold’s not dead, Jug, it’s just…dormant. But waking up.” Betty exhaled. “I heard that you’re writing about Jason Blossom’s murder.”

 

A surprised look crossed Jughead’s face. “I am. Riverdale’s very own ‘In Cold Blood.’”

 

“Which started as a series of articles.” Betty looked at him earnestly, her blue eyes shining with hope. “Jug, Jason’s death changed Riverdale. People don’t want to admit that, but it’s true- we all feel it. Nothing this bad was ever supposed to happen here, but it did. I want to know why.”

 

Jughead sighed. “Would I get complete freedom?”

 

“I’ll help, and I’ll edit and suggest, but it’s your story and your voice,” Betty assured, hoping he took the bait.

 

He paused for a few seconds, looking thoughtful before saying, “Okay, I’m in. One question, though- why me? There are plenty of hipster wannabe Truman Capotes at this school.”

 

Betty smiled. “Because unlike them, I know you have talent. If your current work is anything like what you wrote when we were 13, I’m sold.”

 

“Trying to butter me up, Cooper?” Jughead teased.

 

“Don’t need to,” she quipped. “You already agreed to it. No backing out now!”

 

Jughead let out an exaggerated sigh. “What have I gotten myself into? This better not interfere with my job at Pop’s.”

 

Betty laughed. “If by job you mean volunteer burger taster.”

 

“Hey, somebody’s gotta do it!”

 

The bell rang, and Betty stood up to leave. She told Jughead she would keep him posted on his first assignment, then made her way back to the building that held people she was trying to avoid. But unlike earlier that day, she felt more at ease. She had a new mission to focus on with an old friend as reinforcement. And for reasons unknown to her, she still couldn’t get his words from the other night out of her head.

~~~

Betty checked her watch. 5:30 PM. Once again, she had lost track of time in the school library. She was drafting an outline for her English term paper and brainstorming an assignment to give to Jughead for the Blue and Gold. Despite making some progress, her stomach rumbled. Distracted by her hunger, she decided to halt her efforts in the name of dinner. She made her way down the empty hallway to retrieve the rest of her books from her locker.

 

Just as she was turning the lock dial to its final number, she felt somebody beside her. She looked up. Reggie Mantle was towering over her in his letterman jacket with a menacing look on his face. “’Sup, Cooper. Where have you been hiding? You look so hot in that skirt.”

 

Betty finished the combination and opened her locker, keeping her eyes straight ahead. “Not now, Reggie.”

 

Reggie shut her locker, forcing her to look at him. “Oh, Betty. The good girl routine is such an act. When will you learn? The more you pretend not to want me, the more I want you.” He inched his body closer until he had her backed up against the lockers.

 

Betty squirmed. “Seriously Reggie, get lost.”

 

His expression darkened. “Don’t be a fucking tease. Your sister Polly had no problem giving it up…”

 

“She said get lost.”

 

Betty glanced out of the corner of her eye to see Jughead standing there. His brows were furrowed and his eyes were dark, burning holes into Reggie’s.

 

“You’re the one that needs to get out of here, Jones. Go be weird somewhere else. Betty and I have some catching up to do- you wouldn’t understand.” Reggie roughly cupped his hands around her shoulders.

 

“Don't fucking touch her. Understand?” Jughead’s furious look had morphed into full-on rage.

 

“Tough guy, eh? What are you gonna do, hit me?” Reggie looked increasingly irritated.

 

“If I have to, I will. But I don’t,” Jughead snarled, getting closer to him. He reached his hand out to Betty, who was shell-shocked. “Come on. Let’s go.”

 

She stared blankly at first, then grabbed his hand. She felt her legs moving beneath her, slowly at first and then speeding up until she and Jughead were sprinting through the exit.

 

They ran until Riverdale High was out of sight. When they stopped to catch their breath, they were on the edge of the road leading towards the drive-ins. It looked like the end of the world. Jughead turned to Betty and looked at her seriously.

 

“Are you okay, Betts?” he said with a quiet urgency, his old nickname for her slipping out. There was concern in the way he looked at her, his features soft. He hadn’t let go of her hand and was stroking the back of it with his thumb.

 

Betty nodded slowly. As soon as Reggie had mentioned Polly’s name, a wave of numbness had washed over her. Just like it always did. She was just starting to feel again.

 

Jughead looked down at their clasped hands as if just realizing what that might mean. Looking conflicted, he let go of hers. “I need to get you home,” he muttered.

 

“No,” she heard herself say. “Anywhere but there.”

 

He nodded in understanding. “Pop’s?” he suggested. “I’ve been there once or twice.” His eyes twinkled, and his attempt to lighten the mood made Betty smile softly.

 

“Okay,” she replied.

 

As they began to walk down the road, Betty stopped in her tracks.

 

“Jug?”

 

“What is it?” he said in a worried tone.

 

“This is going to sound crazy,” she said. “But could you keep holding my hand?”

 

Without another word, he took her hand in his.

 

~~~


End file.
